Cautions
by Spacebabie
Summary: Something is haunting areas in New York where gargoyles have been known to be found. Goliath is determined to find out what it is and what it wants.


All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of Spacebabie

**Cautions**

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* * *

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_Previously on gargoyles_

"They are the prisons of four of those who tried to fight against Oberon. Each one caused suffering and pain to the mortals of the land where their stories are known."Owen Burnet (Rejection)

"Mortals making themselves stronger, deny their places as our servants." Red Cap (Harvest Moon)

"If ye wish to talk with me then look me up at Colombia. My office door is always open." Macbeth (Some Enchanted Evening)

* * *

Crisp and gentle breezes blew through the tops of the trees surrounding the campus of Colombia university. A few of the dry leaves, appearing as if blood seeped through the roots and bleed through them, were knocked loose from the frail twigs they hung from and blew towards the ground, often spinning around in a dancing circle until they came in contact with the cool cement.

Students rushed by the buildings and trees, taking no notice of the leaves as they fluttered to the ground, only to be trodden on by the damp soles of their sneakers, boots and flats. The students had too much on their minds to care about the beauty of the fallen autumn leaves. Large term papers were due around the first few weeks of December along with the dreaded exams they would have to spend long hours to study for. There was also Thanksgiving weekend fast approaching, a time to relieve the pain of stress so they could slouch around the comfort of their own home and enjoy the mouth watering feasts their parents and families had prepared for them.

One man clearly stood out from the groups of students, not because of his age. His back was not slouched from carrying the burden of backpacks filled with books and folders, nor did he dress like them. Instead of jeans and khaki pants, along with T-shirts, jackets and sweaters he was clothed in a blue suit. Dark blue slacks matched with the suit jacket, buttoned all the way leaving on the neatly folded collar of his white shirt and the top of his dark green tie exposed. Jon Canmore made his way through the crowd of students, approaching the history building and his destination of choice. Golden hair that fell inches past his shoulders was secured in a ponytail, similar to what he wore in the office and a pair of black sunglasses concealed his light blue eyes. He listened to partial conversations as he past a few students on his way, picking up mumbling about having a ten page paper to work on over the extended weekend and wondering how much clothes should they pack for home. 

"Honestly," Jon said to himself as he slipped through the glass doors, held open by a courteous student he thanked. "How much do they think they can squeeze into their suitcases? Don't they have Laundromats on campus?" He walked across the scuffed up tiles, straight to the elevator. The person he wanted to meet with had an office on the third floor.

"I was expecting you would show up sooner, or later." The gray-haired Scotsman held the door open for Canmore and pointed at one of the two chairs in front of his desk. His own suit of dark gray, was few tinges darker than the hair on his head and the neatly manicured beard on his chin.

"I had a few complications," Canmore explained as he lowered himself to the chair upholstered in deep green vinyl. He felt like he was almost going to sink through the padding and wondered if they were stuffed with authentic down. Jon swept his sunglasses off his face and placed them on his lap. "There were a few family situations."

"I understand," Macbeth slid into his own seat and placed his hands on the smooth wooden surface of his desk. "The good news is you did come."

"Aye," Jon sat up in his seat. Macduff's office was what he expected a college professors office to look like. A tall and slender bookcase took place in back of the room. It's shelves were packed with several books and a few binders. The small waist high case was placed next to the chair Jon had sat in. A few framed photographs and a house plant, residing in a brass pot. The walls were neatly decorated with a couple of framed diplomas and gray photographs of castles and lochs Jon instantly recognized at being from Scotland. An old wooden clock, carved to resemble the classic design clocks from Switzerland occupied a section of the wall..

"Do ye have anything in particular to discuss?" Macbeth studied the younger man. Any features his own cousin and cousin's son had been breed out of the blood line, except for the piercing blue eyes. The Canmore bloodline still produced attractive children, made evident in Jon's face. High cheekbones were noticeable under the pale peach skin. His strong jaw ended in a lean chin. The end of the regal, hawk like nose was tinged pink from the outside air. "Or what made you decide to visit with me in the first place?"

"I came because ye asked, and because ye said ye were family."

"Family means much to ye?" Macbeth wondered if he should reveal a bit about their connection. He wasn't going to tell the whole truth. His history was too complex to reveal in one whole day.

"When ye donae have much ye hold on to all ye have. After me father was murdered I only had Jason and Robyn, and this one aunt who we didna see much after Jason turned twenty one." He narrowed his golden eyebrows as he tried to remember. "She was a strange old woman, always wore this crystal around her neck."

"One of those new age types?" Macbeth's silver eyes shone with amusement.

"I dont remember," Jon sighed. "It's different now. I have a new sister and nephew. I have Lorrie, Colin, and Eddie, and I have Lorrie's family." His weak laugh fell short as he covered his face. "Or at least I did."

"They saw you at night?" Macbeth made sure his tone sounded questioning enough. He knew from his wife's trip to Atlanta with her daughter about what happened at the Mulligan family anniversary.

"I was only trying to relieve the tension foisted on Donnie," he sat back up ,removing his hands from his face. "They were making him feel like an animal because of his sexual orientation."

"You did a good thing."

"Good thing?" Jon chuckled weakly. "I believe I was part of the contributing factor to my father-in-law's heart attack. Donae ye worry. He's fine now." There was no possible way he could explain how Barry Mulligan was healed. He didn't want to explain Lorrie's family history on his first visit with the professor.

"Ye canne really blame yerself fer that, Laddie." The corners of his mouth turned up. "Tell me about yer boys."

"My boys," Jon's spirits were lifted as his posture straightened. His sheepish grin reshaped itself to a large smile. "Where to start. They are both growing like weeds as Lorrie would say. Eddie is almost ready fer his first haircut. He's got dark red hair like his mother and brown eyes like her. He has wings like his brother, but not his ears. They do have a small point, but they are not as large. his feet are different. Five toes and they are not enormous, but they are shaped like gargoyle feet. They have the curved arch, and the spurs."

"It appears those that are only one quarter gargoyle vary in what and how many gargoyle features they have. I met the daughter of another member of your species. Three years old and extremely sweet. She has to wear headband outside to cover her spiked brow ridges."

"It would appear," Jon shrugged in agreement. "Eddie is crawling now. Whenever we take him out off the playpen and place him on his blanket we have to stay in the room."

"They are very curious at that age," Macbeth chuckled. "They are always wanting to explore their world."

"Colin has learned where his boundaries are."

"Colin?" Macbeth raised his silver eyebrows at the mention of the other son. "How old is he?"

"Turned four a few months ago. He's full of questions and energy."

"You mentioned he also has wings?"

"Aye, and he keeps on trying t' use them. He climbs on top of his dresser and jumps toward his bed, and not just his bed. He has done the same with the top of his dresser and the floor and the book case in the living room and the couch."

"How well does he glide?"

"He doesna get hurt. His wings are not strong or big enough to glide properly. They act more like parachutes."

"You feel he isn't ready to learn?"

"His wings are not strong enough, and I was told he shouldn't even start learnin until he was five." Canmore shook his head. He dared not to divulge the name of the gargoyle who relayed him that bit of information. It brought up a painful memory that burned the edges of his heart.

"He still might not be ready if you don't take him out to exorcise his wings."

"Ye mean I should take him out on top of our apartment complex and begin training him?"

"Not every night," Macbeth steepled his fingers. "Perhaps once every other week for the next few months and then move up the date to once a week. I'm sure he will appreciate it."

"Except times moves slower when they are young," Canmore rose form his chair. "I know they need to learn patience."

"You are leaving now?" Macbeth stood up.

"I'm sorry, but me lunch hour is almost over."

"Ah," the older man stepped out form behind his desk. "Then allow me to see you out. Perhaps we can meet again."

"Aye," Jon nodded at the older man. It might have to wait until the weekend, but he was going to speak with his host again. He felt a sense of calm and reassurance when talking with Macduff.

* * *

Blunt edged scissors encased in pink and white plastic cut along the pattern marked with red ink on the brown paper bag. The small creature cutting out the design was covered in a thin pelt of sandy blond fur, contrasting with his head of black hair and matching dark wings. Teddy Maza removed the creation he made with his cutting skills, a three point leaf shape, from the remaining paper and set it on the table, amongst the pile of other leaves.

"We can color them soon," the other small occupant of dining room table said as she picked up the last of the bags. Her hair, the color of molten gold and streaked with obsidian was styled in a short, pixie cut. The narrow pupils of her yellow eyes matched the feline shaped eyes of the mutate child across from her. She had the same shape of nose as he did but her body lacked any fur and her back was devoid of wings.

"My hand hurts," Teddy Maza had set his scissors down on the pile of the paper leaves and rubbed his wrist. Pamela's mother had taken most of the grocery bags from storage and drawn pictures of leaves all over their surface with a red marker. The children were instructed to cut them out and color them. The ideal of the craft easily appealed to the two of them.

"If your wrist hurts take a break," Natalie offered. The thin woman kept her mouse brown hair tucked under a black and blue, checkered scarf. She was setting out the newspapers, preparing for the next step in the children's art project.

"Mommy, Maggie, when are the eggs gonna hatch?" Pamela asked as she finished cutting out another leaf.

"Is there a reason you would like to know?" Natalie asked.

"I want to help with the baby gargoyles, like we help with Dalton." The young infant she spoke of was asleep in his crib, tiny body petrified to stone shortly after his eyelids closed. He was six months in age but was the size of a four month old, not even old enough to sit up without any help.

"They won't hatch for at least ten years." Maggie set down the small plastic containers of water color paints and the brushes made from sponges cut into squares and inserted with halves of possible sticks. The art project was for the children to cut out leaves from the bags and then color them with the red, orange, gold, and dark brown paint. After they had dried Maggie would sew them together and have a decorative chain to hang over the entrance the dining room for Thanksgiving.. "You will be old enough to handle more responsibilities and be a bigger help by then."

"by then they will be teenagers," Natalie cringed at the thought and rolled her eyes to Maggie, wondering if she was thinking the same.

The golden-yellow, lioness mutate was not looking at her but the tall tiger mutate standing in the doorway, gesturing madly. "Claw? Is something wrong?"

The seven foot tall mutate nodded his head as he pointed at the two adult women. He pointed at himself and spun around to point outside the dining area.

"You want one of us to go with you?" Maggie figured out his pantomimes. She didn't wait for him to nod when she turned to Natalie. "Could you watch the children?"

"They won't be too much trouble." The human finished layering half the table with news paper, the painting part would be the messiest part of the project, and began to gather the remains of the paper grocery bags.

* * *

Claw had lead her to outside the entrance of the Labyrinth home. The strong, metal door was easily pushed aside by the muscle bound mutate.

The long dark hallways of the abandoned laboratory was devoid of an litter. Talon had organized some of the human dwellers to be the clean up the paths. Once a day they would walk around the paths with large bags and brooms and picked up the trash that sometimes accumulated in the paths.

"How far away do we have to go?" Maggie's eyes instantly adjusted to the dark the second she stepped out her feline eyesight picked up everything clearly.

Claw grabbed her by the shoulder and shook his head. He pointed towards the wall a few feet down.

Maggie approached the cement and brick structure, her nostrils twitched to pick up the iron tang scent of blood that might have been spilt there. She only could smell the old musty scent that clung to the sides oft he tunnel and fetid stench of sludge from only a few yards away. there was also faint scent of the ocean.

Claw guided her down the narrow path until they were standing right in front of the section he was trying to show her. His talon pointed at words, a darker shade of green than Maggie's leotard, painted across the wall, spelling out a message.

"What is this?" She narrowed her eyes, trying to examine the words. Did someone come by recently and spray paint more graffiti? In addition to picking up trash the clean up crew also scrubbed the graffiti a few gang members would paint on the sides. She twitched her nostrils, trying to detect the scent of paint. Instead she found out where the scent of the sea was coming from in addition to decaying plant matter. It wasn't paint. Someone wrote a message using a slippery mush made out of slime.

The larger mutate moved his hand as if he was using an invisible spray paint can and shook his head.

"Becareful?" The words that formed in Maggie's mind where echoed through the mouth of the young woman, dressed in a patched up sun dress, approaching them. She had paused directly in front of the message. Her left hand held onto the handle of the basket containing five flowers and her right hand dragged along an old wagon with a stool and a create in it.

"I would like to know who wants us to becareful," On any other day Maggie would have asked her how business was. "What should we becareful about?"

"Looks like something a member of a gang would leave," she squinted her aquamarine eyes as she tried to study message. She only removed her gaze to set her basket down on the back of the wagon and slid back her braid of brown hair. "It doesn't look like paint."

"It isn't," Maggie approached her. Annie might refuse her offer to help her but it would be rude if she didn't offer it. "It's slime."

"Slime?" The color in her face diminished. "Why would anyone use slime to write a message?"

"We are concerned about that and I want to know where they got the slime. It smells like it came form the sea."

"Somebody is going through a lot of trouble." She handed Maggie her basket.

"It looks like business went well for you today."

Annie nodded. "I old most of my flowers and I found a clue to my past. I discovered a broken bracelet where the U around my neck would have fit."

"Are you certain?"

"It had half of the same letter," she sighed. "and only fragments of the other letters." She followed the female mutate towards the entrance where Claw picked up the crate that served as her table and followed the two of them inside.

* * *

The shortening of the hours of sun light meant dinner was served after the clan had broken free of their stone shells. Owen would have extra help in the kitchen to prepare the dinner time feast. Minutes after he had roared awake and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, Broadway had joined the majordomo in the kitchen, completely dressed in his apron and chef's hat.

Owen had already began boiling the small, red-skin potatoes before sunset and had removed the pot from the stove to drain the tubers before Broadway removed the defrosted section of deer brisket from the refrigerator. He had pulled out a variety of spices to use for his culinary skills.

The disguised fae cut each potato up into very thin slices before placing them into the bowl to mash. Ever since that evening Broadway had forgotten to peel the potatoes before he mashed them the clan had developed a taste for the skins mixed in. He personally thought they were perfectly fine and it made the choir easier.

"It needs something," Broadway brought an aqua hued talon to his curved plump chin as he stared at the meat on the stove. He brought out crushed peppercorns and sage to coat the outside of the meat, but he felt like there should be something more.

Owen did not and would not suggest anything. Broadway liked to figure out the necessary combination of spices himself and he knew the old proverb about too many cooks. He focused on the potatoes. His arm felt tired from the constant mashing the pieces into a clumsy mixture and was ready to take a break and add the milk and rosemary.

His hand froze at the touch of the sterling silver refrigerator, not because the handle chilled his finger straight to the bone, but because the whole area chilled him. The temperature felt like it had dropped a few degrees and there was a strange fragrance in the air. The same fragrance as the ocean.

"Sea Salt!" Broadway's nostrils quivered at the unique scent. He opened the cupboard door above him and pulled out the clear container full of thick white crystals. "That's perfect. I've read about how in Brazil they salt the outside the meat before they put it on the spit."

"I knew you would have figured it out," Owen answered in his normal dull tone of voice, thankful he was able to quickly regain his composure. He was certain what had breezed through the kitchen was nothing to become worried about. Perhaps it was a mere coincidence.

* * *

"Are you sure Xanatos won't mind?" Gold talons held the white wife beater shirt that normally dressed his upper frame. Matt Bluestone set it down on the counter top next to a familiar grayish white halter top. His leathery wings of shining bronze capped themselves across his bare shoulders as he stared at the door of the large bathroom. "He and Fox are going to want to know why the door is locked."

"Let them wonder," the immortal beaty of a cerulean hued goddess turned the knobs of the giant bath tub, releasing jets of warm and hot and cold water to mix together as the gather in large, porcelain basin. She removed her loin cloth from her athletic form and placed it on top of her halter. "Now hurry up and get naked."

Matt did not have to be told twice. One look of his mate's bare form and his talons had grabbed onto the belt holding his loin cloth securely to his waist. The material was tossed onto the counter, barely missing the sink, as his flesh continued to harden.

"Lets see what we have here," Demona purred, her onyx eyes looked over the various amounts of jars and bottles containing Fox's bath products. She selected a small jar full of champagne colored pearls and a bottle of green liquid. The bead's had a relaxing scent of chamomile and aloe vera. Demona tossed in a head full and squirted the green liquid under the running water. The scent of apples immediately filled the air. "And perhaps some jets." She turned on the tub jets, the tiny spigots gushed out turbulent jets of water and air, turning the tub into a Jacuzzi. "Now this is perfect." She remove her golden tiara and the band wrapped around her arm.

"That does look inviting," Matt watched as the combination of the jets and bath mix created a thick foam lather on top of the water's surface.

"What are you waiting for?" The end of her tail reached up and brushed against his thigh. She did not look back as she waded into the tub. The warm water surprised her at first and the jets tickled her skin, but as she sat down she felt a warm massage covering her form.

Matt let the aftershocks of her touch course through his form before he climbed in after her The bath tickled his skin but the turbulence in the tub felt soothing. "This feels nice."

"Yes it does," she handed him a peach colored mesh puff over her shoulder. "Could you please wash my back? I don't care if you touch my spot." Her wings,laxed to near her sides when she spoke, and perked up slightly.

"An after dinner bath," Matt accepted the puff and pushed himself backwards to search for a bottle containing shower gel. He selected a small bottle half filled with dark pink liquid with pictures of strawberries on the label. He would love to have his mate smell like strawberries. "It fits together perfectly. That was a great meal. I hope Broadway makes brisket the same way again soon."

"Is that all you can think about?" Demona chided. "Besides if he did make it again it would most likely be cow brisket."

"Steak or deer it doesn't matter, whatever he cooks it's a culinary masterpiece." He removed the cap and poured a few drops of the gel into the mesh. "And yes, my love. I am perfectly aware of what is important. Getting to wash your skin."

Demona closed her eyes at the gentl touch of her mate' mouth around the pointed tip of her ear. She felt the smooth weave against her skin, brushing away the drudgery of her work in the human world.

Matt scrubbed Demona's back in smooth circular strokes, enjoying every sigh and moan his mate breathed. He buried his nose into her fiery hair, inhaling the scent of her orchid scented shampoo and conditioner. His other hand reached around, sliding up to her chest. He hoped to grab onto a smooth and soft sphere, but what his talons came in connect with was limp and slimy. He pulled back in horror. A long strip of dark green seaweed hung from his talons.

"What the hell?"

"My love, what is wrong?" Demona turned around at her mate's gasp. Her eyes widened at the seaweed in her mate's hand. "How did that get in here?"

"I have no idea, but I'm going to find out." Matt clenched his hand, squeezing water out of the seaweed as if it were a washcloth.

* * *

Owen raced towards the Xanatos bedroom. The deep bellow mixed with the roar of a gargoyle echoed through out the castle. The bottles of ice tea meant for Xanatos and the others fell from his arms as he took off. He will bring the drinks to Jerry, Lex and Xanatos in the computer room after he found out the problem.

"Owen!" The problem was a near seven foot tall, golden gargoyle standing in the middle of Xanatos's bedroom. Water dripped off his body and a thick towel of Egyptian cotton was wrapped around his waist. "How do you explain this?" He held out his hand, displaying the rung out piece of seaweed.

"That looks like a piece of kelp," Owen stared at the strip of kelp before looking into the glaring eyes of the weregoyle. "May I ask why you are in Mr. Xanatos's bedroom, Detective?"

"I'm taking a bath with my mate."

"Is there something wrong with your own bath tub?" Owen answered dryly. The sea plant connected with the chill and the smell he and Broadway had experienced earlier.

"That is not really important," Matt held out the plant, his hand shook, waiting for the majordomo to remove it from his claws. "What was it doing in the bath tub?"

"I wouldn't possibly know how it appeared there," Owen was quick with a follow up response the second he saw the gargoyle's browridges rise an inch. "And neither does Puck. He is only a teacher and a protector, not a joke player." He peeled the soaking limp plant from Matt's hand.

"You are a trickster. You can bend the rules, and I didn't accuse you of placing it in the tub. I just want to know if you might know how it got there."

"There were no magic lessons involving the ocean or seaweed."

"Anything connected with those goblins from a couple months ago?"

"I don't think that has anything to do with them. I do not know of any oceanic goblins," he held up the crushed kelp in his hand, the plant was real, not a leaf from one of the potted plants form the castle. "And now may I ask you if you are going to leave for your own bathroom?

Matt responded with a long growl, rising to a near roar as he returned to the bathroom. His growling did not stop until he had slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Goliath never wanted to hear about another case like Nicholas Prince again. That man, he wasn't sure if he wanted to call him a man, did not live up to his last name of Prince. He may come off as a prince at first with his charming attitude, but after he got what he wanted the prince had turned into a monster. Only a monster could do what he did to those children.

The victims mothers would describe him as an attractive man who's honey coated words paved his way into their hearts. Prince would meet them in laundromats or at grocery stores and offered to help them carry their heavey loads of cloths and paper and plastic bags back to the car while invoking his charm on them. He would then woo them with roses and invitations to accompany him to a dinner or a movie, or even a symphoney. They thought Prince wanted them, but what he wanted was their children. He would try to win over the children by trying to be their friend. He would give them candy and talk to them about school and their problems. He offered to help them with their homework and play a small game of catch with them.

The descriptions of the mutilated bodies were still tattooed on Goliath's brain. He saw one crime picture Elisa brought home, and one was enough. The image of the eight year old with his internal organs extracted had drained the color from his face, turning him pale gray. Prince had taken the children to several different garages and warehouses, tied them down and cut them open. He placed the organs on news papers and in jars. The most sickening detail about the case was the coroner had discovered the children were alive when they were cut.

"How could anyone do that?" the huge gargoyle climbed up the stone steps, leading to the top of the tallest tower of the ancient castle. His fingers massaged the middle of his forehead. A good day of stone sleep would ease his headache. At least they had caught him. The nightmare was over. Prince was in custody, keeping the rest of the children in the city safe from him.

"Goliath?"

All Goliath wanted to do was climb up to his perch and rest until the sun rose, but Xanatos's assistant wanted to delay him. "What is it you wish?"

"I want to get a few words with you," Owen stood with one foot on a step higher than the other. The tiny beads of sweat on the top of his forehead was the only sign he had been running. He was not short of breath, nor did he show any signs of sweating through his suit.

"Can this wait?" The binding pain had return, clamping Goliath's eyes in advice grip. "I wish to rest."

"I'm not about to spring anymore surprises on you," Owen lowered his foot until they were on equal ground. "No one has been hurt, but there have been a few discoveries I feel you should know about."

"A few discoveries?" He slid one hand off and continued to approach his battlement. "What do you mean?"

"An entity has made it's presence known."

"An entity?" Goliath did not need this news. It certanitly did not help his headache "Something is haunting my castle?"

"It's behavior has been benign so far. In fact it's sightings are not very large. There were only a few slight signs such as a chill in the kitchen and the scent of sea air. And Detective Bluestone had dissevered a piece of seaweed in the Xanatos bathtub."

Goliath did not care to know why Matt was in the Xanatos bathroom. "It sounds like this entity has something to do with the sea. Was it a sprit of someone who drowned?"

"There is that possibility. I will arrange another lesson with Alexander, and perhaps Fox. We will seek out the entity and see what it wants. Perhaps we will be able to convince it to leave"

"Let me know if you find anything when we awake." Goliath climbed on top of his prefered battlment. "If you are not able to convince it to leave in peace. the clan will get it to leave." The new information relayed by Owen added extra weight to his mind, increasing the pain of his headache.

* * *

The blond servant knew he shouldn't have left both the door open to his room and his personal bathroom. The whispering of two children behind him was the harbinger of the fact the task of his giving his son a bath was going to become more tedious.

"I can hear you behind me," Owen gently rubbed Ronnie's bare belly with the feather soft wash cloth and placed it on top of the knobs, keeping it far from his son's hands and claws. Ronnie was in the middle of an experimental phase. Everything he comes across he tries to scratch and tear up with his retractable claws.

"What you do?" The caramel hued child was the first to toddle up to the disguised Fae on large feet ending in five sharp toes.

"Can we help?" The female child asked as she followed her brother. Her smaller feet were as flat as a humans and only had four toes tipped with sharp talons.

"Re," Ronnie caught sight of the hybrid twins when he peered over the side at the tub. He pointed at them with a single finger, his retractable claw curled out. "Ro."

"What I just need, the wonder twins." Owen turned around briefly to stare at the toddlers. Both had recently celebrated their third birthday, but they were still at the physical and mental stage as a child of two and a half.

"He is giving his baby a bath," Rebecca stood on Owen's left side, closest to the faucet. Her sable brown hair was long enough to brush the top of her shoulders. Her white t-shirt and bright red jumper constrasted slighty with her lavender skin. She stared into the water, noting an important ingredient was missing. "No Mista bubble?"

"He is too young for Mr. Bubble." The adult explained and reached for the washcloth, only to be blocked by Rebecca. "Rebecca, could you hand me the wash cloth?"

"Okay," she climbed up the side of the tub. Owen felt the paternal instinct to reach out and grab her before she slipped in, but he had forgotten about her sharp claws. The toddler was able to grip onto the porcelain without any fear of slipping into the water. She managed to grab onto the washcloth and climb back down to the tiles. "Here you go."

"Thank you," Owen accepted the cloth and squirted in a dab of the no more tears formula of bath gel. "You can have the official job of holding onto the wash cloth when I'm not using it."

"What can I do?" Rowan had climbed on top of the toilet seat with his tail curled over the side and brushing against the floor tiles. He was dressed in a shirt and red overalls, nearly matching his sister's outfit.

"You can hold onto the towel." The blond man used the wash cloth to scrub his son's arm, hoping he was doing it comfortable enough so that Ronnie wouldn't try to scratch him.

"Where are your glasses?" Rebecca asked and pointed at Owen's face. The thin wire frames were absent from his face and she couldn't where he had placed them.

"I have put them in my pocket." Owen moved onto the other arm, scurbbing it clean before he washed his stomach. He did not try to keep his annoyed mood from out of his voice. The what was once going to be a simple task was made longer by the twins' constant questions. Perhaps if he gave them simple jobs such as holding onto the wash cloth and towel they would keep quiet.

He was thankful Rowan was able to remove the towel form the rack and not drag it across the floor and he was evenly thankful Ronnie did not soil the towel on the way to the nursery. Owen quickly carried his son to the changing table, completely aware he had the twins toddling behind him.

"Can we help wit diapers?" Rowan piped up. His sister was already pulling out the package of Pampers from the shelves of the changing table.

"I will give you two special jobs," the man answered dully. "Rowan you are in charge of baby oil and Rebecca gets to hold onto the baby powder. You will be able to recieve these important jobs on the grounds you stand out of my way an will not ask any questions," He was willing to give them both more small minor jobs. They eventually did quiet down in the bathroom.

The chore flew by faster than Owen had anticipated. Both twins provided sufficient help and didn't get in the way. They handed him the bottles when he needed them and he took them from his hands when he was done. After he had placed his son, already half asleep, back into his cradle he turned around to thank the twins. His judgment was on the spot as usual. They hadn't left the nursery, both staring up at him with wide and eager eyes.

"Is there more for us to do?" Rowan's tail brushed against the ground as he tried to wag it.

"I have no more chores," Owen's voice remained it's wooden tone. His eyes were originally on the twins but they migrated towards the nursery door when he heard a familiar and not too distant sound. "Besides I'm sure the older children will want to play with you and tell you about their days at school."

* * *

The sounds grew louder until they were right outside the nursery. The door opened, pushed very eagerly by Alexander Xanatos as he entered the room, still dressed in his silver and blue Pembelton Academy uniform, and followed by Charlie and Macy.

"There are too many people in this city who can't drive," Kitrina Burnet was the last to enter the nursery. Strands of taffy colored hair loosened from the bun that was secured by a few pearl barrettes at the back of her head. The almond hued sweater she had left the house in was draped across her arm. "There were some words I wanted to express, but couldn't because of the children."

Owen didn't wait to allow her to get another word out. He swept her in his arms, inhaling the fading scent of Black Diamonds before his lips met hers. "Welcome home."

"Ronnie is asleep?" The remaining lipstick that had faded from her lips was completely removed from the kiss.

"Bathed, changed and asleep. I am sure you want to spend some time with him."

"Look what I made." Macy held up the large paper she was carrying around. Bright red hand prints of finger paint were lined in a neat row. Paint of different colors decorated the prints with resemblances to beaks and eyes and wings.

"That is a nice picture," Owen steadied the picture with his hands. Unlike the boys Macy did not have to go to the Tot section of Pembelton preschool everyday. It was the shortest grade, lasting only four hours at most and was essentially daycare. They were worried the teacher would demand for her to remove her jacket or headband at first, but the teacher allowed her to continue to wear them.

"Refridgerator?"

"Kitty will put it on the refrigerator. Why don't you go watch cartoons with Charlie?"

"Okay," she handed the picture to Kitty carefully, as if it could fall apart any second before she followed Charlie out of the room. Her hands fumbled with the buttons on her jacket en route.

"Time for another lesson?" Kitty glanced at Alex as the young spellcaster removed the back pack form his shoulders.

He nodded briefly before approaching the seven year old. "Alexander, it is time for your magic lessons."

"Not now," Alex's fingers and ran down the hard plastic buttons of his dark blue jacket and quickly undid them. He pulled his jacket off and nearly dropped it on the floor but caught Owen's disapproving glare and held onto it. "I want to change clothes first."

"You can do that after we have finished."

"Mom isn't home. We should wait for her."

"Alex," Owen narrowed his eyes while removing his glasses. "We have to this now." His voice did not have to increase in volume. The sharpness of his tone was enough for Alex to follow him.

The abandoned room of fitted stone pieces had only a single door and no windows. There were no electricity to provide any form of light to see around the room, only several candles of pure beeswax held in several brass candle holders.

Alex did not have to wait for anyone to pull out a packet of matches or a lighter. The second he opened the door he commanded the candle wicks to become ignited with a brilliant flame and with a wave of a hand, caused them to hover several feet in the air.

"You have yet to let me down," Owen followed the child into the room, transforming from his human guise a few feet from the threshold. The drab business suit had melted and arranged into a red and purple tunic trimmed in gold. His leather shoes formed into bright red boots while he shrank a foot and his ears lengthened several inches. Golden hair grew lighter in tint and lengthened til the ends brushed against is lower back. "This lesson will be very easy for you. Hold out your hand."

"Are you going to guide me?" Alex held out his hand that wasn't holding onto his jacket.

"I'm going to give you something." he placed the tattered remains of the seaweed Matt had given him the night before into his palm, long dried from it resting throughout most of the day by the window.

"Ewww," Alex crinkled up his nose as he nearly dropped the pieces of plant material. "I hate spinach."

"It is not for you to eat," Puck explained. "I want you to concentrate on the magic that is still linked to it and see if you can find it's source in the castle. The source belongs to a ghost."

"A ghost," the child closed his eyes and held up his hand, fingers formed into a tight fist, clenching onto the seaweed. He threw his jacket towards the trickster and held out his hand with the fingers spread out. He focus entirely onto the residue of magic left by the mysterious spirit on the seaweed and tried to feel for it. He spun around in an entire circle before he turned to face Puck. "I can't find it," disappointment hung in his voice. 

"Don't give up," Puck took his hand into his. He felt the magic clinging to the seaweed through the child and felt for it throughout the castle. He forced himself to seek it through the air within a few feet from where the gargoyles roost and throughout out the entire building down towards the basement. Similarly to his student he could not feel anything. "It's not here."

"Does that mean I didn't do it wrong?"

"You are extremely well skilled." Puck tousled his hair, and handed him his jacket back "Whatever was trying to a haunt our home had decided to leave."

"Can I go and change my clothes?"

"Yes you may." Puck took the seaweedback and clenched onto it in his fist while he shifted back into the guise of Owen. Goliath should be relieved with the news the entity had left.

* * *

6: 45 P.M

The stone figures of the clan leaders: past, present, and future were bathed in the warm glow of the fading daylight. The sleeping warriors had no idea they were not alone on the highest tower as the last few rays of light slipped bellow the horizon line.

Cracks formed over the stone figures, forming spiderweb like patterns as they completely covered the statues for a few seconds before several pieces flew out. Stone shards rained down onto the stone floor behind them and onto the lower towers, meeting with the fragments cast off by the gargoyles resting there. The warriors stretched out their wings and limbs and roared. Their eyes lit up briefly before they blinked, the fading memories of their dreams were eradicated from their minds.. 

The lean and crimson form was the first to turn around, half expecting see both Marle and Elisa waiting for their mates to awaken. To Brooklyn's disappointment, and somewhat confusement, he did not encounter the aforementioned females but the stiff, blond haired, servant of the castle's owner.

"Is there something wrong?" Brooklyn opened his beak. There were not many reasons for the disguised fae to be waiting for them to wake up. "Where are Marle and Elisa?"

"They are inside," Owen did not loose his composure at the brashness of the second's question. "I have asked them to wait, since I want to speak with Goliath privately."

"Ye donnae need to tell us twice, lad." Hudson brushed the remaining stone crumbs from his shoulders. "I'll be in the den watching the entertainment news until dinner is ready." He stepped down from his perch.

Goliath watched his second in command and mentor walk past Owen. "This is about what you told me last night?"

"Exactly," Owen stepped closer to Goliath's roost and paused to turn towards the entrance in the floor. He did not speak again until the other two gargoyles had completely scaled down the steps. "Alex and I did a search throughout the castle's premises, seeking out the mysterious guest."

"What have you discovered?" The over seven foot tall gargoyle stepped down from he battlement he favored for his daytime sleep. "Do we have enough information to tell the others?"

"There will be no need," Owen smiled and quickly continued before Goliath could press him future. "Our visitor had left."

The answer did not sit too well enough for Goliath. "We don't know why it was here in the first place."

"I don't think I could understand what it had sought without pushing young Alexander too much."

"Do you know what it is?"

"I believe it's an undine. I can't be too sure though since I haven't seen one in a while."

"A water spirit?"

"A spirit of a person who had drowned either by suicide or murder." He turned back towards the entrance. "I have to finish cooking dinner." He did not get too far when Goliath grabbed his shoulder from behind.

"You cannot leave like that. The others are going to want to know about your findings."

The human tried to slip away from his grasp. "I have already informed Detective Bluestone. He seems fine with the answer."

"You are just going to cook and go on with your life as if it was never around?" He increased his grip on Owen's shoulder, careful to not crush any bones or leave any bruising behind. The way the human grimmaced was enough of a reaction for him.

"After everyone is fed I am going to work with Alex to find out where in the castle it was," he grabbed onto the arm, thrice as thick with muscle as his. "Perhaps we would be able to divulge some clues on it's whereabouts."

"You should have said that before you walked off." Golaith released owen, his eyes never leaving the statuesque man as he continued his path back to the stairs. Goliath noticed he had picked up his pace and rubbed his shoulder once before he disapeared down the steps. Perhaps he was too roguh with him, but he had to think about his clan first. A haunting of any sort could possibly be a threat.

* * *

7:29 P.M

The cool air of the night, shortly after sunset, chilled the skin of the humans of the city to the point they had dressed in either long sleeved shirts of wore a sweater over their clothes. The cool temperature was present at the top of the more well to do apartments, but one resident didn't notice the temperature change as he stepped out side. Skin the cooler of ripe key limes and covered in miniature scales was nearly immune to the cold. Jon Canmore scaled to the roof top, sinking his claws into the cement structure. It was a short climb from his balcony on the top floor. He did not wear his bright, red chest and shoulder armor, but he was clothed in his black clothes. He pulled himself to the top just as his wife had stepped out from the top floor elevator along with their sons.

"Don't be out too long," Lorrie cautioned as she pulled the tiny form of her infant, bunddled up in a couple layers of blankets, closer to her. She was still dressed in her jeans and Braves Sweatshirt that was a size too big for her. The ends of the sleeves threatened to swallow her hands. "Colin has to be in bed in an hour."

"It's not a school night," Jon stared up at the sky. The lights of the city had flooded the heavens with it's own luminence blinding out the stars, but he still could see the pale golden sphere of the moon, meaning there were no clouds that night. He didn't want to go out right after the sun had set and wanted to wait for the sky to darken until it was the color of ink. It gave the family plenty of time to finish their dinner before the evening's lesson.

"It will disrupt his schedual and besides. He doesn't want to miss cartoons."

"Saturday cartoons," the child nodded his head, covered with hair the color and softness of cornsilk. Colin was dressed in his favorite T-shirt and outfit. Red top with black pants to match the colors of his father's gargoyle outfit. Lorrie had made sure his sleeves were long enough to cover his arms all the way down to his wrists even though he could tolerate the cold weather slightly better than her. "Daddy will watch cartoons with me"."

"Aye," Jon ran the tips of his fingers, made thick from his nightly transformation, through his oldest son's hair and smiled.. It was almost like looking into the mirror of the past. His son resembled him when he was the age of five. The only difference was the shape of Colin's chin and the warm, brown eyes of his mother. "We'll watch them tomorrow."

"You two have fun," Lorrie turned towards the elevator. "I'm going to try to convince Eddie to go to sleep."

"I'm pretty sure this will be fun." Jon spread his dark wings to their full span. "Remember we will not being doing this every night. Just twice a month."

"I'm going to fly." Colin spread out his own wings, mimicking his father. His tan wings were the shape of his fathers with double ribs and a pale yellow lining. A small cloud of yellow dawn formed around the child whenever he spread his wings. The soft inner lining he was born with had begun to shed.

"Glide," Jon corrected with a single talon pointed up. "And not tonight. Yer wings are not quite big enough and they are not strong enough. We are going to exercise them tonight."

"When they are big and strong I can glide?"

"Aye, now fold yer wings." Jon recloaked his wings across his shoulders.

Colin copied his father, causing more dander to swirl out from under his wings. They had barely enough time to rest across his shoulders before his father unfolded them again. Colin followed the movements and realized the first exorcise was to just fold and unfold his wings.

* * *

She did not have to worry about how Jon and Colin will return to their apartment. Jon would glide down from the top of the building and land on the balcony with Colin in his arms.The soft murmuring sound from her infant son brought her attention to him. Eddie blinked a couple times before he yawned."I don't have to work too hard to try to get you to go to sleep," she spoke softly as she held him, carefully in one arm, and used her free hand to slide the key into lock on their door. 

Lorrie carried Eddie to his crib and gently placed him down while removing a few of the extra layers covering him. The infant stretched his limbs including his own pair of wings. Like his brother he had layer of cotton soft down covering the linings. His ears were not as prominent as his older brother's but his feet were the same shape as a gargoyle with five toes and had the spur Jon's feet had at night, but they were the same size as the feet of an average infant, but they were going to need specially made shoes.

She was right. Lorrie did not have to wait long until Eddie closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, but did not leave. She stood by the crib a few minutes longer before she left his bedroom ande entered the dining room. She stared out the sliding glass door, half expecting to find her husband and Colin ready to come back in. They were not there. She had enough time to fix herself a glass of iced tea with a slice of lemon. She had removed the plastic pitcher from the fridge and was about to set it on the counter, and would have it it wasn't for the sand. She stepped back, pulling the pitcher towards her chest and heard the liquid inside slosh around.

"I just scrubbed those," she spoke in not an annoyed tone but one of surprise. As soon as she had placed the dinner dishes into the dish washer she used one of the lemon scented cloths from the plastic container and gave the Formica counter tops a good wipe down. There was no possible way she could have missed the sand that was gathered in thin lines swirling around. She stepped closer, wondering if she was seeing what she thought she saw. She wasn't imagining anything. It was sand, the type from a beach, and the lines were not a random design, they were actual words.

"Watch out." Lorrie felt the picture slip from her fingers and had to her grip on the handle before it would have completely fell out of her hand. She was no longer thirsty. She nearly threw the tea back into the refrigerator before she raced back to Eddie's room. She was not going to leave her baby's side with the possibility of a ghost in her home.

* * *

8:19 P.M.

The scent of one of the children was stronger. Deep blue merged with the bright red carpet as the enormous dog like beast lowered his head and inhaled the air through his nostrils. It had the scent of both human and gargoyle, but the human was stronger. He called also smell the No More tears shampoo and conditioner lingering in his quarry's hair.

Bronx paused out outside of one of the miniature storage closets. The scent stopped right outside the wooden double doors. There was a child hiding there. The seeker had found the first of the children in hiding. He barked before he pawed at the doors twice, cautious to not leave any claws in the pine wood that had replaced the original shutters when the castle was brought to the city.

"You found me!" Hidden amongst the stacks of board games was a three year old, almost human girl with sandy brown hair and a pair of leathery wings. Her bangs were kept out of her hazel eyes by slender, long spikes protruding from the top of curved ridges where her eyebrows would have been if she were human. Macy shoved a few boxes back to keep them from falling before she jumped onto the back of the blue beast. "Let's go find the others." She told him once she had found a comfortable way to sit on his shoulders without falling off.

Bronx enjoyed playing hide and seek with the children and he was more than eager to show his mate, Boudicca how to play. Both beasts couldn't count to ten, but the were able to wait for a while, enough time for the children to find places for themselves to hide. The beasts tracked down the children by scent. The round would end when the last children was found and that child became the next it.

"Footsteps," the quarterling pointed at the damp footprints on the parts of the stone floor that lacked carpet. Somebody had gotten their feet wet and made it easy for her and Bronx to track them down.

Bronx wanted a closer inspection of the drying prints. They seemed small and dainty, but they were too big to be the prints of a child. He inspected with his nose, careful to not cause any discomfort to the child on his back as he lowered his head to inhale the scent. They didn't come from anywhere in the castle. The water came from the sea.

Macy heard the growl from the beast and stared down. The foot print did not look like they were going to cause any trouble. "What is wrong?"

Bronx stopped growling and crawled forward. He was going to see where the footsteps led. If they were a threat then the rest of the clan would have found out.

"There are a lot of them," Macy tried to count the steps but didn't' know how to count higher than twenty and the steps continued. The walked past the library and another room where some of the clan was playing cards. She looked up to see where they were heading. Her eyes widened at the sight of the wall, covered with a tapestry depicting the scene of a beautiful woman in white surrounded by dancing unicorns. "Stop, Bronx."

The gargoyle beast paused at the end of the hall. The footprints continued through the solid gray stones. The beast could not continue tracking down whoever, or whatever made them.

"Let's find the others," Macy gave the large beast a gentle pat on the top of his head

* * *

8: 58 P.M

The dog eared copy of TV guide was placed on the arm of the chair as Hudson lied back. Smallville was over and he wanted to watch aonter of his favorite shows. The thick remote was resting on his stomache. "Lets be seeing what Angel and the others are up ta."

"Can't believe this is might be the last season." The crimson form of a short gargoyle was seated on the floor in front of Hudson's chair where Bronx usualy prefered. Mercutio sucked the lingering butter sticking to his tips of talons. Instead of making sighs and weak barks the short gargoyle created the sound of constant muching. The plastic snack bowl was surrounded by the tent created by the leather stretched across his arms and legs.

"Aye, I know." Hudson glanced around the near empty den. The gargoyle beasts were playing with the children. Lexington, Rayne and Jerry were in the computer/workshop. He had over hard Brooklyn mention something to Gloria about a game of air hockey and everyone else broke off into small groups to relax.

The only two lifeforms in the den were seated on the couch. Jam was dressed in what she had dubbed "Comfort wear." Her ensemble contained a pair of pale demin pants with an elastic waist band and a faded purple shirt, one size too large for her. A pair of pale gray bunny slippers were placed on the floor leaving her feet bare. She had her dark blond hair tied back into a sloppy pony tail. Her bangs had been streaked with blue and green the night before. She was so engrossed in her magazine she did not notice the emerald hued gargoyle brushing his talons against her shoulders. Frank was not interested in what was on TV either. There was a smirk on his short and fat beak and a gleam of lust in his black eyes topped by the same row of spikes as his daughter, Macy.

Hudson turned up the volume and watched as Mercutio continued to stuff his face. He wondered if the web wing ran his talons through his hair the crease would keep the mop of messy black locks in place.

"Who lowered the thermostat?" Jam looked up from her magazine. The three gargoyles looked confused.

"How cold is it?" Frank noticed the tiny bumps breaking out on her arms and wrapped one wing around her back. "Bend your knees and put your feet up." He folded his other wing around her knees until it came into contact with his other wing.

"My nipples are so hard they hurt," she tried to talk through chattering teeth.

"Will somebody check the thermostat?" Frank tried to form a tighter squeeze around his mate and ignored the scent of sea air that recently developed.

All it took for Mercutio to abandon his treasured snack while the small cloud exiting from Jam's mouth. "I'm right on it. For some strange reason I'm craving sushi."

* * *

9: 47 P.M

Talons of cool aqua reached out towards the small plate containing slices of fresh fruit and grabbed a couple segments of orange and brought them to the large gaping mouth. Curved fangs immediately tore into the sweet fruit, filling Broadway's mouth with juice and pulpy flesh.

"My love?" Angela glanced over to her mate as he finished his brief snack. He was too absorbed with the citrus he did not realize it was his turn. His handful of cards were tilted back towards him. The faces were shielded away from everyone's eyes. Angela stared down at her own hand. She had only four cards, one of each suit, and all a different number. "It's your turn."

"My turn." Broadway was ready to wipe the sticky juice from his mouth with the back of his arm, but caught the sight of the pile of napkins near the bluish gray form of Desdemona. He quickly wiped his mouth and hands dry before he stared at the last card played and at his own hand. He had three fours but the last number played was a six and a color he did not had. He glared at the images of Alfred E. Newman, half wishing he hand had one of the big eared mascot dressed like an astronaught in front of a large image of what might be a golden yellow sun or a moon. "Shoot."

"Draw another card," Othello's talons clutched onto the glass containing his drink of gin and Sprite. The clear plastic glass was half filled with liquid and round ice cubes that bobbed a little when he set his glass back down.

The corpulent gargoyle grumbled as he selected the top card from the stack of the MAD set. The game was one of his favorites. It was a variation of Uno with a twist. He glanced over the black resurrected gargoyle. His rugged form was like chiseled obsidian, strong and sculpted with a mane of gold to contrast with his dark skin. The older gargoyle held on three cards in opposing to Broadway's six. The only hope Broadway had in winning would be if the had selected either a yellow card or a six

"Can you play it?" Angela asked as soon as her mate had selected another card.

"Yeah," Broadway felt a bit of triumph when the card was not only yellow but it also contained the Mad Mascot dressed as a cowboy complete with a ten gallon hat. He turned it over and placed it on the top of the played deck. "Draw."

Angela smiled while she mouthed the phrase "Draw One, you varmints." and selected a card form the top of the demising pile before Desdemona who only raised her brow ridges and nodded at the plump gargoyle.

Othello grunted before he selected his card. It was a blue card, but it didn't matter. He still had another yellow. "Little sister?"

Angela plopped a yellow card on top her mate's and plucked a few of the pale green grapes from the bunch.

"It appears I'm out of yellows," the bluish gray female did not sound the slightest bit worried or annoyed. She wisked a card from her hand, leaving only three behind and placed an image of the MAD mascot dressed in a green leisure suit with various rotten pieces of rotten food being thrown at him. The number 5 in the corners matched with the numbers of the previous card.

"You have made things a bit difficult for me, my love." Othello's eyes twinkled like polished rubbies as he selected another card from the stack. The slick dampness of it caused him to nearly draw his hand back in shock. "It's wet." His eyes widened a he glanced at the others. "How in the name of the dragon did this one become wet and not the others?" He selected the damp card and held it held it up before flipping it around, grunting in frustration when he realized it was one of the only two "What Me Worry" cards. It seemed his luck had turned.

"Hmm," Broadway's nostrils flared as he tried to see if he could detect what kind of substance has saturated the card. The familiar tangy fragrance was the same aroma he had smelled the night before. The very scent that inspired him to coat sea salt to the meat. "It smells like the sea." He took he card from Othello and placed the edge between his lips for a brief second. "Tastes salty."

"Broadway?" Angela cast him a troubled glance.

"I just wanted to make sure," he tossed it back to the dark clone, giving it a little spin when he flipped his wrist.

"I believe we can finish our game later," Desdemona rose to her feet. "We need to find Owen. I believe our mysterious guest is back."

* * *

9:52 P.M

The aroma of aged leather and stained wood of several bookshelves built tall enough to reach the top of the ceiling greeted Goliath's nose the second he entered the library. There were other fragrances in the air such as the clean scent left by the Fabreeze Owen had sprayed onto the upholstery of the chairs and onto the curtains. It was the scent of the books that lured him towards the shelves. The musty scent of the dry papers that had yellowed over the years and the leather binding.

The clan leader glanced at the exposed spines, searching for a literacy classic he had yet to read. His eyes caught the title of Heart of Darkness.

"Very well, Mr. Conrad." Goliath pulled the tome from the shelf, disrupting a few of the dust motes. It was a pity a classic, literacy treasure was overlooked while some of the others books have been obviously read and reread constantly. The books in question were either by Grisham or Stephen King. "I'll check out your tale."

Goliath approached his favorite chair for reading. His eyes were on the book and not on the ground. He would have slipped one what was on the ground if it's stench hadn't betrayed it. The comforting fragrance of the library was instantly marred by the stench of a freshly caught fish.

"Fish," Goliath slowed down in his steps. There was another presence's of the ocean in the castle. "I thought you said it was gone, Puck." He looked down when his toes came in contact with something cold and damp. He stared down at the dead fish. A single talon had landed on the scaly body, near the jelly like eye.

The book slipped form his talons in surprise, but it wasn't due to the shock of the surprise he had found on the floor. It felt like it had been pulled from his claws by an invisible force.The book fell a few feet but did not strike the ground, only resting a few inches above the ground. The tome floated back up to eye level with Goliath but it was out of reach. It spun around once, the cover and back remained closed, before it floated towards the wall. 

Goliath followed it until it disappeared through the gray ancient stones. "Puck!" Goliath's voice boomed, bouncing off the walls in a vibrating echo.

The bland servant of Xanatos appeared before the lavender leader, almost instantaionsly. The large gargoyle hadn't noticed the sound of his shoes striking against the groud when he raced into the library. "I believe I know why you called me, or rather why you called my alter ego."

"I thought you said it had left," the clan leader fought hard to remain a tenacious hold onto his temper. "It's still here."

"It had left briefly," Owen's thin lips turned up into a frown.. "I have already been notified it's back."

"Where is it?"

Owen narrowed his eyes. "I can't look for it, not with out Alex or Fox."

"Then find them."

"We had already been found," the warm voice of Fox Xanatos was bit on the hard edge as she answered Goliath's harsh demand. Both gargoyle and servant turned toward the entrance to see the Lady of the castle wearing what looked like a pastel, blue gown over a pair of black dress slacks. It only took a few seconds for them both to realize she was in the middle of changing clothes for bed. "Othello and Desdemona told me you were going to need me." Her eyes of brilliant aquamarine were fixed on Owen.

"Othello and a few others had called on me before you did." Owen felt the gaze of the seven foot gargoyle on him along with the staring eyes of his rookery siblings standing behind Fox. He was first recruited by the resurrected gargoyles along with Angela and Broadway when their game of cards took on a strange turn.

"We've got Alex," Broadway set the sleepy eyed child down on the ground He raised his own large eyes, to greet with the soured expression held captive by Goliath's own. "How did the haunting make it's presence noticed to you?"

"It left me a fish," Goliath pointed towards the floor where the decaying seafood was placed, only to discover it was gone. It didn't leave puddle nor even any presence of it's stench. His mouth parted to express his shock of it no longer being there, but clamped his mouth shut. he didn't need to say anything more about the fish. "It also took my book."

"Which book?"

"Broadway." Angela clasped her hand on her mate's shoulder, hoping to push the curiosity of what her father was reading out of his mind.

Her mate slipped form her claws and cast her a wounded glance. "I just wanted to know. I might want to read it later."

"Heart of Darkness," Goliath muttered the title while glaring at Owen. "You have both Fox and her son. You can turn into Puck and find out what is haunting my castle.

Owen raised his eyebrows as if to ask 'What do you mean by your castle.' "I have already taught Alex how to locate it. My alter ego is no longer needed."

"He still may be needed," Fox had approached her son's side the second he was set down. She could sense he was confused on where he was at first. She grabbed onto one of his hands and absentmindedly removed the dried up gunk that had gathered in the corners near Alex's eyes. "He's falling asleep."

"You know Oberon's rules."

"This thing could be a possible threat." bright aqua narrowed to thin slits.

"The presence does not feel like it is a threat, and the rules are specific."

"You have been known to bend the rules in the past," Desdemona's own eyes mimicked Fox, amethyst replaced pale blue as she glared at the majordomo.

"I suggest you should quit stalling," a large lavender hand clamped down on Owen's shoulder. The weight caused the disguised fae to grunt. This time he did not squeeze with his whole nad, but pressedin with the tips of his talons. "Turn to Puck, or find some other way to track down or uninvited guest."

Owen tried to step back, but the sharpness of Goliath's talons piercing into his skin made him pause. "Give Fox the tainted card."

"Tainted?" Fox's question was answered by Othello handing her the damp card he had plucked from the deck. She reluctant accepted it. Her fingers gingerly held onto the corner. "What do you mean by tainted?"

"There is nothing that will harm you," Owen pushed his wire-thin glasses further up the bridge of his nose once Goliath had removed his immense paw. "Tainted means it had been in contact with our visitor. You need to become familiar with the energy surrounding the card."

"She has to become one with it's force?" Broadway asked.

"Not quite," Owen's expression did not change, although he was rather amused by the young gargoyle's question. "There is a bit of residue of the entity's energy lingering to the card. Fox has to focus on it and concentrate to see where in the castle the Entity lurks."

"Like a dog getting the scent of the animal it needs to track," Othello nodded.

"Precisely."

"Like the lesson form yesterday," Alex reached out with his free hand to stifle the yawn he felt possessing his jaw. Dark, bluish- gray shadows had formed underneath his eyes. The sclera appeared pink from he various veins that had appeared. He closed his lids and stretched out his hand. his fingers danced in the air for a full minute. "It's down."

"Down where?" Goliath tried to press on further. He was instantly met with glares from the three females in the room.

"He should be asleep," Fox snapped and pulled her son closer to her. The card in her hand felt cooler, causing a tingle against her palm. The feeling did not stop there. The tips of her fingers felt a slight itch developing.

"He was asleep when we found him," Angela explained. "We shouldn't have pulled him out of bed."

Fox's numb fingers pressed harder on the card. She was nearly submerged in the energy. She slipped from Alex's hand and pointed down on the ground. Alex had said it was down. She focused on the strange feeling that had completely consumed her hand tried to determine where it was exactly. The near familiar sensation greeted her finger from permeating through the floor.

Her eyelids flew open. "I think I found it."

"Do you have an exact pinpoint?" Goliath was loosing his patience.

"Alex is right. Its below us." Her finger wagged back and forth like a dousing rod, trying to determine the exact location. "It's in the atrium."

"Then that is where we shall be," Goliath said.

"Should we tell the others?" Broadway asked.

"I believe the eight of us can handle it."

"Make that six," Desdemona scooped up the half asleep child into her arms and straightened up, careful to not disrupt the child's natraul sleep processes as it enveloped him. "You will need Fox and possibly Puck, but the child is way to tired to continue. I will take him back to his bed."

* * *

10:04 PM

The moonlight streamed in through the glass sunroofs covering the atrium and bounced against the shimmering blue waves over the swimming pool. The four garoyles and two humans stared into the the chlorine treated water first, noting it had nothing lurking it.

Nothing was found within the goldfish pond except for the smooth, colorful pebbles lining the bottom, the bright greet plant life waving around like a slick flag, and the colorful fish swimming around. It didn't look like anything had spooked them.

"I don't like this," Othello's deep voice was kept to a low whisper. Scarlet eyes darted around the room, trying to seek out the spirit. He couldn't even smell the oceanic scent of it's usual presence. "I wonder if it's still here."

"It's here," every strand of fine hair on Fox's body stood on end. The eerily cool feeling that had gripped her hand in the library had covered her entire body and began to dig deep under her flesh, feezing her blood and her bones.

"Goliath?" Broadway's eyes were focused on the stairs leading to one of the catwalks. A leather-bound book was placed on one of the bottom steps. "Is that the book you were reading?"

"Tried to read," Goliath noticed where his daughter's mate was pointing. "I believe it was trying to lead me here."

"I swear it wasn't there a second ago," Broadway felt his own heartbeat escalate. "I just turned around and it was there."

"It is obvious this thing is still here. We need to find a means to get it to show itself." Goliath read the title off the cover. It was the book he had selected for his late night read. Perhaps he might get an hour of reading time before dawn. even if there wasn't anytime he should pick it up.

His talons were within inches from the book when it levitated several feet. "There you are. We want to know why you are haunting us." The only answer he received was the book rising higher at an incline against the steps. It did not stop until it was floating high above the center of the walkway.

"I believe it wants us up there." Owen climbed up the first few steps, only pausing to turn around and insist they follow with the glint in his eyes. He didn't resume his steps until Goliath began to follow.

"What more does it want?" Angela followed her mate up the stairway. "We are here. It has an audience. It wouldn't have staid if it didn't want to be found by us."

"I'm sure there is more to it," Broadway shrugged. "Ghosts in books and in movies want something. They can't rest unless their story had been told."

"Or until their murderer has been found," Othello added. "I've seen a few ghost movies."

"Except this spirit may not have it's life taken by the hand of another," Goliath stared over his shoulder. "An undine is a spirit of a suicide victim or one who was murdered by drowning."

"Perhaps it just wants to tell us what drove it to suicide if it wasn't forced to drown?" Othello shrugged.

"It is a bit more than a mere undine," Owen continued down the walkway until he was directly underneath the book. The copy of Conrad's story did not budge from its seemly invisible shelf until the last of the party had assembled on the catwalk. The book descended down to Goliath and paused in the air a few inches in front of him. "I'm begging to sense it is a member of the third race.. Someone I once knew."

"What is the next step," Goliath snatched onto the book before it had a chance to float away from him again. "And what do you mean by a fae you once knew?"

"Pinpoint it's exact location in the room." Owens response was for Fox. He chose not to stare at the Goliath and chose not to respond to him

"I've already found it," the ex-mercenary placed her hands against the railing of the walkway and stared down into the cerulean surface beneath them. "The energy is coming from beneath us."

"The mystery is finally solved," Goliath glared down into the pool. "Show yourself!"

"That is not the way," Owen's warm hand clamped down on the gargoyle's wrist, squeezing as tight as he could. "You have to address this particular fae by name, and Fox should do it."

"Me?" Fox blinked. She glanced down at the pool and then back at the statuesque human. "Is it because I'm part fae?"

"Not just because you are part fae, but also because of who your mother is. Tell her who you are and then demand her to show herself."

The athletic woman breathed in deeply, pondering if she was what it would take for the ghostly fae to listen to her. They did not have much choice. "Give me her name."

"She is called Melusine, the queen of the undine."

"I do not appreciate you showing up at my castle uninvited, much less haunting it." Fox wanted to close her eyes at the corny words that were leaping out of her mouth, yet she dared not stop. She was in her actress mode. The spark of her being in the spotlight was coursing through every vein in her body and she could swear the same energy was made visible around her body in the form of a rdiating green aura. "I want you to show yourself, Miss Queen of the Undine. I am Fox. The half fae daughter of Queen Titania. Melusine come forth."

The air over the pool seemed to thicken with a ghostly white haze while the once calm water formed bubbles. The almost glass like surface rippled and formed waves that crashed against the sides of the pool, spraying droplets of water over the sides.

"Certainly likes to make a big show," Angela turned away from the spectacticle.

"I thought I may have overdone it with the speech," Fox never tore her eyes from the bubbling water. "I'm pretty sure I have said cornier words in the past."

Everyone grew silent as the thick mass of bubble and haze grew together into a compressed column. The pillar grew more opaque while the haze retracted on the water underneath it. The pillar was motionless for a few seconds before the matter crumbled and fell back to the water to reveal a frail form underneath. Parts of the frozen haze slid off her body like sea foam.

"I have an audience," the frail form parted her ice blue lips. She looked like someone who hadn't eaten in a week, damp skin stretched out over bones with no muscle mass underneath. She was the same shade of blue as the skin of a drowned body. Pale hair hung limply off her shoulder and stuck to her back with streamers of seaweed woven in like ribbons. Her large round eyes were the same shade of blue as the deep ocean with eyelashes frosted white from sea salt. "I just needed an audience. I kept dropping hints around but nobody tried to look for me."

"You have received your audience," Goliath's sharp tone bordered on a growl. His talons curled around the railing, squeezing it almost tight enough to break it. The sight of her sad eyes had only rose sympathy from him for a second. She was a member of the third race. "Now you will tells us why you were haunting us."

"I had to warn you," she turned her head to look at him. The end of her narrow chin brushed against the mass of barnacles serving as her her right shoulder pad and loosening a few strands of hair from behind her fan shaped ears. The rest of her clothes consisted of a soaked gown and armor, worn toga style, made out of seashells, starfish, and the skeletal remains of fish. "I had to warn a lot of people."

"Is this about the Unseelie?" Owen tried to not let his expression or tone of voice to betray his emotions.

"My dreams," Fox breathed. "Is she sent by Oberon?"

"Not quite," Owen shook his head. His eyes never left the undine. "She and her undine army helped with Mab on the attack of Avalon."

"She's an Unseelie?" Goliath's wings spread out. It took the strength of both Broadway and Othello to keep him from gliding off the walkway.

"I'm not one of them," Melusine held up a hand. The lights reflected of the tiny, fish like scales covering her hand. She spread her fingers ending in long and smooth nails, displaying the webbing spread across the digits. "Oberon caused a mortal to become on of my undine. I felt her despair and her pain. I retreated when he caught Mab and Loki. Several others escaped along with me. Some became unseelie and some are like me, outcasts."

"And the outcasts are trying to make amends," Owen nodded. "Such as giving us this warning."

"Maybe someday he will forgive us," Melusine stared at the water beneath her. "He may someday forgive you Goodfellow. I've been watching this castle since Titania's grandson was born. I felt the presence of both Avalon king and Queen. I looked in from time to time and even watched one of Puck's lessons."

"You are seeking Redemption," Othello felt he had been a bit patient for too long. He wanted to know the message. "That is why you are trying to warn us. We want to know the message."

"I fear the unseelie are grouping," Melusine's voice took on a haunting tone. "There are many who are not sealed up but kept their heads down. They are finally beginning to sense Oberon is on Avalon and will not notice them. Already the underlings have begun to gather."

"The goblins," Goliath remembered.

She nodded at him. "There is more. I have swam close to my original island home. I sense hostility emitting from a single child. I fear he me betray the island and release the four."

"The four," Owen's knuckles went white. "Loki, Kali, Set and Huitzilopochtli."

"I recognize only a few of those names," Goliath said. "I remember stories about Loki's imprisonment, but not the others."

"The four of them are sealed within interlocking prisons. The same ones Fox had dreamed off."

"I dreamed of them," Fox's grip on the railing increased. Her own fingers paled to match Owen's. "And she is warning us. There is a high possibility there are going to be free."

"I thought Loki had his own prison," Broadway's thick browridges clashed together. With his reading skills improved had had brushed up on the stories of the fae, most notably stories centered around the places his mate, Goliath, Elisa, and Bronx had visited on the world tour. "It was what I read."

"That was his first prison," Owen answered.

"Where are these prisons located?" Goliath asked.

"I do not know," she hung her head. "They were imprisoned after my banishment."

"All we can do is wait?" Goliath's voice was calm despite his hulking frmr shaking from rage. His eyes slowly illuminated. "What good will a warning do?"

"It will allow us to be better prepared," Othello grabbed onto Goliath's shoulder and forced his weight down.

"I and the other Outcasts are going to do more than warn," Melusine clasped her hands together. "We will fight by your side."

"We thank your for your offer," Angela smiled at her. "We don't know how many other Outcasts are out there."

"There are more than you may think. Between my banishment and Oberon calling his latest gathering more fae had angered him."

"It doesn't seem to hard to get on his bad side," Fox muttered.

"I will leave now and no longer haunt you. If I need to contact you the writing will be on the wall." She dove under neath the water. The second her webbed toes disappeared beneath the surface she had vanished.

"That's it?" Broadway couldn't remove his gaze from the pool. "No more fish smell"?

"I believe that is it," Goliath slipped from his rookery' brothers grasp. He noticed the book he had dropped in frustration from speaking with the Undone Queen. He had nearly forgotten about it. "I'm going to get a least one hour of reading done. Owen, why did you nott ell us she was before?."

"I did not for certain until I entered the Atrium," Owen took one last glance at the pool before he followed the crowd towards the steps. "Everything became clear afterwards."

"I am going try to get some sleep." Fox stretched, her arms reached up. The act of summonging the fae had wore her out even more.

Only three remained on the catwalk after ther others had gone. Their eyes were focused on the pool beneath them.

"It's almost hard to believe its gone," Broadway was the first to speak. "I know it was one of the third race, but I still have a feeling we should add more chemicals to the water before we swim.

"I know how you feel," Othello raised his head, quickly noticing the distraught glance on Angela's face. "Is there something wrong little sister?"

"I do not like the way father has been behaving recently," Angela slowly stepped back, angling her body so she would near the stairs. "They way he grabbed onto Owen. I heard that was not the first time."

"He doesn't want anything to attack us. He was just worried."

"Maybe he could be a little less harsh."

"Don't worry," the sausage like talons of her mate's talons ran through her hair. "We will talk to him tomorrow night about it."

* * *

Epilogue

"I thinkest ye are just bein a bit paranoid," Angelica Macduff clutched onto the cup of warm tea her great-great granddaughter had prepared for her. She had arrived outside the Canmore apartment as soon as it was five in the afternoon Her husband called her form work about the disturbance Lorrie had come across. It was good timing Jon came in for another talk session during his lunch break

"You did not see it," Lorrie sat across from her ancestor at the dinning room table. Eddie was in her arms, drifting to sleep after his feeding and Colin was watching cartoons in the living room with his father. Jon gave Angelica a weak look when she had arrived but said nothing

"I don't need ta be seein it," Angelica set her cup down. She was dressed in her favorite outfit whenever she was creating stained glass artworks: a short sleeved shirt and a pair of over alls. "I can tell ye I am not feelin it. Tis that not enough fer ye?"

"Why would something caution us like that."

"They were not tryin ta care ye child. I feel it was a benevolent entity warning ye of something bad."

"Could be a little more specific? You are as vague as Miss Clio."

"If ye insist." She blotted her mouth with her napkin. "The sand was gone the next morning which meant it served it's purpose. It is a water spirit from the sea and since the sea connects the world she could probably have along sense rang. I believe she would know something is comin."

"Are you certain?"

Angelica nodded. "Look who me own mother is. I have learned how to read warnings through the years."

"Something is brewing," Lorrie glanced down at the baby in her arms and then back over to the living room. "I'm no longer worried about my kitchen but I'm worried about my family."

"Don't ye worry .There are noble warriors in this city and don't ferget I can be a warrior. I won't let anything happen ta ye or yer family, I promise."

The End


End file.
